


If You're Not Moving Forward

by merriman



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: AU, Gen, Yancy Becket Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1737413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merriman/pseuds/merriman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Knifehead attacks, Raleigh is ripped out of the conn-pod instead of Yancy. Where Raleigh walked away from the PPDC, Yancy forces himself to stick it out while Stacker Pentecost recruits Jazmine Becket in the hope that she will be drift compatible with her brother. But you can't force things like this and sometimes partnerships are both unexpected and fortuitous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You're Not Moving Forward

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Не стой на месте](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2611283) by [Alre_Snow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alre_Snow/pseuds/Alre_Snow)



> Thank you to S, S, A and A for beta duty and listening to me moan about how much longer this all ended up being than I'd originally intended. 
> 
> There is a song in French in the story. For the translation please see the end notes.
> 
> Now with art done by the wonderful [desolatesandwich at tumblr](http://desolatesandwich.tumblr.com/).

__

_Jazmine_

You couldn't escape the news. It was ever-present in a way Jazmine only vaguely recalled life without. She barely ever needed to bother turning on her own television these days. Someone always had the news blaring somewhere in the apartment complex, loud enough for everyone to hear no matter where they were. Even in the laundry room you couldn't get away from it. A radio on a shelf over the dryers ran constant reports on even the most mundane of connections to the Kaiju War.

Jazmine was only half listening to the radio announcer as she helped one of her neighbors fold a pile of shirts. Judging by the logos on many of them, they were firmly a Brawler Yukon household. Jaz decided not to hold it against them and handed her neighbor a shirt with a hole near the left shoulder. The man took it with a sigh.

"He won't give this one up," he told Jazmine. He inspected the hole and shook his head. "It's his favorite. I've patched it nine times now. I keep telling him we can get another just like it but he wants _this one_. Tracy sent it home from the Academy. She sent one for all three of the boys but somehow Luke's just harder on his."

Jazmine gave him a little smile. While she knew Jack and his sons well enough she didn't know Tracy. They'd never met. The other girl had been off to Jaeger Academy a month before Jaz had moved in, but she wrote home regularly, sending extra ration cards she'd earned. Jaz was picking up another shirt when something on the radio caught her attention.

"...Danger, crashed on the coast. Reports coming in claim only one of the Becket Boys survived the attack."

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing. A woman in the corner dropped her book. A man quickly turned off the noisy washer they all hated. The announcer kept talking, sounding winded and shocked.

"We have no official confirmation of these reports, but our sources say the jaeger was in ruins, head smashed in, one arm ripped off. The Kaiju responsible, Knifehead, has been destroyed. We will be bringing you updates and confirmation as soon as possible."

The voice kept going, repeating what they'd just heard. But Jazmine could barely hear it now. She couldn't hear much of anything. She stared at the table in front of her, piled with shirts covered in pictures of jaegers and pilots. Her neighbor was turning to her and saying something but Jazmine just shook her head, dimly aware that he was leading her to one of the hard plastic chairs by the wall. Soon everyone was gathered around her and a glass of cold water was pressed to her lips. She took a sip and then another. Then she looked up at her neighbors and swallowed.

"The Beckets…" she said helplessly. A couple of people nodded, wiping at their eyes. "No," she kept going. "The Beckets. Raleigh and Yancy. They're my older brothers."

It took a moment or two for that to sink in with everyone, but when it did everything snapped into motion. Jaz had never given her last name. She'd scrawled her signature whenever she had to write it for someone. It had gotten impossible the last place she'd lived, constantly dealing with admirers and critics and well-wishers and jaeger-rats and then the reporters. These people, though, they weren't like that. She knew that in her gut as they rushed to get her up to her apartment, make sure her things were taken care of, tell each other to keep an eye on her, to make calls. What calls? She didn't know.

Somehow her laundry got done and put away and someone made dinner and sat with Jazmine while she ate what she could and someone else sat with her while she listened to the news more, radio only because no way was she going to look at the ruin of her brothers' jaeger where it had crashed to shore. They still had no confirmation of who had survived, who had died, how a single pilot had gotten an entire jaeger to shore alone. It was all speculation, but she left it on so she'd heard if they finally announced a name. Just in case.

It was two days before someone who didn't live in her building knocked on Jazmine's door. Jack had stepped out to deal with an argument between two of his sons and Jazmine was alone for the first time since before that horrible announcement in the laundry room. She got up to get the door. Jack would just have come back in and anyone else would have done that soft, tentative knock they'd all been doing. This knock was purposeful and stiff. This was a military knock, and that could only mean it was the PPDC.

As Jazmine opened the door she was suddenly very aware that she hadn't showered that day and she was wearing her work clothes, still dirty from the garage. But then, someone from the PPDC was coming to tell her about her brothers. They could cope with her unbrushed hair and grease-stained sweatshirt.

"Jazmine Becket?" the man at her door asked. She recognized him immediately. Stacker Pentecost was in charge of the Icebox. He'd been on television quite a lot back when he'd been given the post at the Anchorage Shatterdome. This was the man who'd sent her brothers out to get crushed by a monster.

Jazmine nodded and let him in. "Marshal Pentecost. Took you long enough."

Pentecost took off his hat and walked into her apartment. He stopped in the middle of the room, turning around to face her as she shut the door behind him and locked it. She didn't need Jack or any of her other neighbors coming in.

"Well, Ms. Becket, you made yourself hard to find," he pointed out. She couldn't argue with that. She'd done it on purpose, though not with the PPDC in mind. Pentecost was still standing there, unmoving, so she shrugged.

"It got rid of the press," she told him as she switched off her radio and sat down. "So. Who was it? The news says one of them is dead but no one knows who."

The only move Pentecost made was to shift so he was still facing her. He'd tucked his hat under his arm and she saw now that he had two envelopes in one hand. He held one out to her.

"Ms. Becket, I am truly sorry to inform you that Raleigh Becket was killed in the line of duty two days ago off the coast of Alaska. Yancy Becket is currently in the infirmary recovering from his injuries. As an immediate relative we can offer you some benefits in the way of housing and rations."

Jazmine looked up sharply. The envelope had contained an official death certificate for Raleigh as well as a statement full of carefully worded condolences and death benefits for surviving civilian relatives. It felt so petty, though for a lot of people these days additional rations and the chance to move a whole family inland would have been life changing.

Pentecost was watching her closely. She could feel him sizing her up and she knew, without a doubt, that he'd been well aware of how she'd react to the promise of more rations in exchange for her brother's life.

"On the other hand," he said slowly. "I have another proposal. Something to consider."

"Go on." Jazmine gestured to a chair across from the couch.

He nodded and took a seat, somehow continuing to look as tall as he had before. "Your brothers were drift compatible, Ms. Becket. That is a rare thing. They had a strong bond and it made them two of the best rangers I've had the honor of commanding. They disobeyed a direct order and it cost them more than they deserved. But we cannot wallow or wring our hands over what should have been done. We need every jaeger. We need every ranger. And right now we are down one of each. If you would be willing to come with me and get tested…"

Jazmine was shaking her head. "I'm not cut out for that," she told him. "That was the Becket _Boys_. I loved 'em, but I doubt it would work."

"Depending on Yancy, it might be a moot point," Pentecost muttered. "But I will ask again. You may not be compatible with your brother, but if you are anything like him you would be an asset, in a jaeger or on the mechanical crew."

Jazmine looked back down at the death certificate and the letter. The Marshal said nothing as she thought about it. On one hand, she'd never really considered even attempting it. People generally went in for testing with someone else they thought was their best bet. Or they at least already had military training or some sort of fighting skills. All she had was some childhood karate and a pair of famous brothers. Well, one famous brother now. On the other hand, it would be _something_. It would get her out of town. It would keep her moving. And regardless, she'd probably see Yancy again at least, even if she failed every test they ran.

After carefully folding the certificate and letter, Jazmine tucked them into the envelope again.

"I'll go," she told Marshal Pentecost as she stood. "But only on one condition?"

He arched a single brow at her. "And that is?"

"Share out my benefits with the folks in this building. I know it won't be much for any one person, but every bit helps."

The tiny smile that crossed Pentecost's face was gone almost as soon as Jazmine noticed it, but it had been there all the same. He nodded once and handed her the other envelope. Inside she found a formal request for her to present herself for testing at a PPDC test facility and an offer of employment with the PPDC regardless of the testing outcome.

"I'll have to tell my neighbors and call the garage," she said as she went to pack some of her things into a backpack. Pentecost didn't answer and it didn't take long for her to grab the important bits and pieces. She'd arrived with three bags and the apartment had come furnished. When she got back to him, he was talking into a radio.

"It's been arranged," he told her. And as they left the apartment she saw her neighbors in the hallways, watching as she emerged with Marshal Pentecost. Several of them came out to the street to say goodbye. A sleek looking black SUV was parked right in front of the building, complete with PPDC logo on the door.

"Where are they taking you?" Jack asked while his sons gawped at the car and tried to get peeks inside.

"Testing," Jazmine told him. "Guess they want to see if I'm enough like my brothers. Take care of your boys. I'll send Luke a new shirt, okay?"

 

_Yancy_

It was so quiet when Yancy woke up. Not silent, but quiet. There was a soft beeping coming from somewhere nearby and the hum of fluorescent lights above his head. Someone was talking in the distance. But it was quiet, so it was immediately obvious that he wasn't in the Icebox. No matter where you went there, you could always hear something going on. The sounds of repairs and upgrades in the hangar, people jogging through the corridors, news reports, dome-wide announcements, Raleigh talking about whatever was on his mind, it was never quiet. There was none of that wherever Yancy was now.

Of course he knew a moment after all of that flicked through his mind that he was in a hospital or an infirmary, somewhere medical. The smells hit him next, all aggressively clean and sterile. Yancy figured he had a minute or two before someone realized he was awake and came to check on him, so long as he didn't make a fuss. So he spent that time taking stock of himself: Burns, most likely. Even through the haze of painkillers he could feel them on his arms and chest where the drivesuit circuitry had fried against his skin. His left arm was immobilized and protested painfully when he tried to flex even just his shoulder. Physically, well, it could have been worse, he guessed. He could feel both his legs all the way down to his toes and he could feel the tips of his fingers.

Before Yancy could get around to carefully opening his eyes to make sure he could still see out of both of them he heard the door to his room open and someone with soft-soled shoes came in. Whoever it was came over to the bed and leaned over him, then stepped back.

"Mr. Becket, you can stop pretending you're still asleep," a woman's voice said. "We've been slowly waking you for most of the morning."

Yancy kept his eyes shut. The last thing he wanted to see was a pitying nurse. He'd had more than enough of that when his mother had died. It was excusable then. He'd been young, their mother had slowly succumbed to cancer, he'd had two younger siblings with him. Now, well, he'd gotten Raleigh killed. He knew that much. And it was a mistake to think of Raleigh. They must have had some sort of machinery hooked up to his head - the wonders of neural bridge tech in the medical world - and an alarm sounded. The nurse hummed softly and did something to make the alarm stop. She patted the pillow by Yancy's head and sighed.

"I'll be back later, Mr. Becket. Call button's by your right hand."

He waited until he heard the door close again before opening his eyes.

The room was just as empty as he'd thought it would be. There was a dresser in the corner, a chair by the bed and some fancy-looking equipment at the edges of his vision, probably set above his head and around the headboard of the bed. And that was it. Everything had the PPDC symbol on it, so that answered where he was. No civilian hospital for Ranger Yancy Becket, even if he was useless now. No partner, no jaeger.

He shut that down fast. No use setting off the damn alarm again and bringing the nurse in before he'd had a little while to think. Except he just kept coming back to the same problem. He was a jaeger pilot. He'd never really been much of anything else. Back before they'd become pilots he and Raleigh hadn't really been driven to do anything in particular. They'd both found purpose in the PPDC. They'd found their calling. Yancy stared at the ceiling and ran through what he assumed his options were.

Well. At the very least they always needed janitors in the Icebox.

The door opened again and this time he knew it wasn't the nurse. The footsteps were too loud and unapologetic.

"Hey there." Tendo leaned over to look at Yancy. "You look like hell, man."

Yancy closed his eyes again and shook his head slightly. "Feel like it too," he rasped, unsurprised to find his throat was rough and dry.

Tendo took the chair and moved it so he could face Yancy.

"Marshal Pentecost wanted to be here when you woke up, but he took off at four this morning. Something urgent he wouldn't talk about."

"Wanted to chew me out in person ASAP?" Yancy muttered. "Guess he'll have to get in line behind you, huh?"

"Me?" Tendo spared an utterly disgusted look at Yancy before taking a sip of the coffee he'd brought in. "Yancy, my man, I am not the sort to kick a guy while he's down. And hey, I get it. You know those fishermen made it."

"Raleigh didn't," Yancy said, amazed at just how matter-of-fact it sounded to his ears. Tendo didn't answer and Yancy could feel the weight of what he'd said settle in his chest. He sighed and lifted his right hand, unsure of what to do with it but needing to move somehow. "I as good as killed him, Tendo. He was my little brother. Should have been keeping him in line."

Tendo leaned back in the chair, tipping it slightly off its front legs. He braced himself against Yancy's bed and shrugged.

"Maybe," he allowed. "But you can't blame yourself for what a fucking kaiju did. Fucking thing zombied on you. And you took it down. You saved those fishermen, you saved every civilian in every city it'd have gone for, and you saved yourself after."

"After Raleigh was gone," Yancy corrected. Everything from now on was going to be Before Raleigh Was Gone and After Raleigh Was Gone. He caught the look Tendo gave him and shot one back. He didn't even know how many days it had been. He was allowed to grieve. But Tendo wasn't arguing, and the look was more one of resignation than anything else. Still, it was good to know the fishermen had made it. He'd been worried about that, even as he'd climbed out of the conn-pod onto the beach, covered in blood and sand and about to pass out from shock and the strain of piloting solo.

"So," Tendo said, sitting forward suddenly and letting the chair drop down sharply, startling Yancy. "What now?" he asked.

Yancy shrugged his one good shoulder, careful to keep the other still.

"Dunno. Figure Marshal Pentecost'll bust my chops for disobeying an order, probably put a big fat black mark in my file. Thought I'd try piloting a mop for a while."

Tendo shook his head and seemed like he'd been about to say something when his radio chirped from his belt. He stood up and answered it, going to the corner to speak into it softly while Yancy continued to stare at the ceiling. He remembered spending one night in a hospital when he'd been a little kid. He'd had his appendix out and woken up with his mother seated nearby and Raleigh running into the room to ask him if he felt lighter now. The ceiling in that room had been tiles with neat rows of little holes, perfect for counting if boredom got the best of you. This ceiling was flat and plain, no distinguishing marks to distract him from trying to make out the one-sided conversation Tendo was having with whoever was on the other end of the radio.

"Yes, sir. Just woke up. Well… Yes. Yes, sir. No, I understand, sir. If you think… No, sir, I'd never think of questioning your orders." Tendo's eye-roll was practically audible. "I'll be here, sir."

"Marshal Pentecost," Yancy guessed as Tendo came back over.

"Yeah. He's… Look, Yancy, he said they found your sister. She's coming in with him."

Jazmine. Yancy winced at the memory of the last time he and Raleigh had seen her. They'd fought at their mother's funeral and Jaz had broken off contact with them when they joined the PPDC. She'd written a couple of letters, asking them to just leave her out of it. She'd wanted as normal a life as possible, given what the world was like now. He didn't even know how she was making ends meet. So they'd left her out of their answers in interviews, just mentioning they had a little sister and she was very private. Eventually the press had given up on trying to get their hooks in her and he'd meant to look her up some time, catch up, see if she'd changed her mind, wanted in on some of the family perks he and Raleigh had rights to.

He'd managed not to cry so far. Not that Tendo would give him any shit for it, but he knew if he started now, stopping wouldn't happen any time soon. But, Jazmine. She was coming in with Marshal Pentecost. He'd have told her that Raleigh was dead. She'd know. And she'd know it was Yancy's fault. Yancy closed his eyes against tears he couldn't allow. He was the eldest. It was his responsibility. Crying wouldn't help.

"Can't see her," he told Tendo. "Tell the Marshal. I can't do it."

"She's going for testing," Tendo muttered. "Don't know what he's thinking, but he's usually got a plan in mind."

"Yeah, well. It's been what, two days?" It was a guess, but it felt reasonable enough. He caught Tendo's nod out of the corner of his eye. "I can't have her in my head, Tendo. Not after Raleigh. She'll see. She'll know."

Tendo patted his shoulder once and nodded again, moving around the bed and heading for the door. "I'll find out what's up," he promised Yancy. "Until then, just rest. Can't have you piloting a bedpan much longer. Got it?"

Yancy turned his head and managed a nod to Tendo. "Yeah. Got it."

 

_Jazmine_

Even though it had been all the rage at the start of the war, and people still went and got tested all the time, Jazmine had never done it herself. She'd never even set foot inside one of the facilities. They'd taken her brothers and made them strangers. Heroes, true, but strangers. And now one of them was gone for good. But there she was, sitting in a little room full of machinery, waiting to be hooked up. They said they had plenty of readings from both of her brothers and could easily check for initial compatibility before the physical tests. How they were going to manage that with Yancy apparently still in the hospital, she had no idea.

"Hi there!" A cheery technician came into the room. He was wearing a navy blue jumpsuit with PPDC stenciled onto the back and his name, Miller, on the front pocket. "I'll be running your test today. Now, normally we'd have you and your potential partner seated together, running the same scans at the same time. Since we can't do that we've got one of your brother's recorded solo scans running and we'll put you through the same tests he did. Try to relax and respond naturally to each portion of the test. We're just looking at brain activity right now."

"Yeah, sure," Jazmine sighed. The tech fixed a number of electrodes to her scalp and had her watch a 3D display and respond to questions, then visual tests, puzzles, spinning shapes that didn't seem to have any particular purpose but responded when she reached out and spun them or prodded at them. An hour later she was done and Miller was grinning.

"Pretty amazing," he said as he looked at his own monitor. "I mean, there's some variation here, but that's to be expected given the age difference and life experience." He hesitated, then typed something into his terminal. Jazmine was still hooked up to the machines but she could see when Raleigh's face showed up on the screen.

"Wow. Yeah. Definitely looks like a good match." He quickly closed out the display and gathered up a sheaf of papers, then clipped them together and came over to help detach the electrodes. "Were the three of you close when you were kids? Like, do a lot of sports? Playing games together?"

"Sort of," Jazmine said, frowning as one of the electrodes caught in her hair. "Is that important?"

"We're not sure," Miller admitted. "You'd think we'd have it down by now, but it's amazing, the variations when it comes to who's drift compatible. Siblings aren't always good matches. Spouses often work out but not always and it doesn't matter how long they've been together. We've paired up perfect strangers who just seem to click. They'll probably run you through the full bio and psych eval later to get more data, but it's mostly for analysis at that point. I mean, you've got at least two potential drift partners right now based on these readings alone…" He trailed off and ducked his head. "Forget I said that. I don't know what they're planning so it's probably better not to speculate."

Two. So, not just Yancy. Probably Yancy, yes. That much was pretty clear, given that he was who they'd been testing her against. So who else? It suddenly occurred to Jazmine that the PPDC must have plans for losing pilots. Marshal Pentecost himself had been grounded when his co-pilot got sick and passed out mid-fight. So they wouldn't want that to happen again. If everyone had another potential partner, well, that was just hedging your bets.

"Physical testing next," Miller said as the last electrode came loose. "Big door at the end of the hall. Take these." He handed her the papers and smiled. Jaz left the room, papers in hand, and headed down the hall and through the large doorway. On the other side of it was an enormous gymnasium divided up into smaller spaces with curtains. In each division were pairs or trios running physical tests. Not everyone, however, was doing the same thing. Some were sparring with staffs, some were doing what looked like tai chi, one pair was dancing.

"Ms. Becket," a young woman said, walking up to her. "Come this way, please. We'll be testing your physical compatibility."

"How is this supposed to work?" Jazmine asked as she followed the woman down the edge of the gym. No one else seemed to be working alone.

"We will have you work on a choreographed set and compare it with recordings of your brothers. While we cannot, of course, test for the anticipation aspect of compatibility, we can test for many other aspects. Once we have gauged your physical movements we will find a suitable partner to test you with."

It wouldn't be Yancy, obviously, but it would be someone they thought could match her movement. That other potential drift partner the tech had mentioned before? Was that person even here at this facility? Jazmine shook herself out a little. No point trying to guess. They wanted her for Yancy. Eventually they'd have to let her see him.

Except they didn't and no one would tell her why. The physical tests had gone fine, as far as she could tell. They'd had her work with a couple of different people and slowly she'd gotten used to the pattern they'd given her to work with. The young woman who'd been overseeing the test had smiled when it was over and assured Jaz that her numbers looked good and they'd be moving her to the Academy right away. And she'd thought well, that was good. She'd thought that must mean they'd talked to Yancy about it and he'd agreed and they'd want to reunite them. All the news programs and documentaries said drift partners spent a lot of time together, so that only made sense. But no. Every morning there was some reason for her to stick around the testing facility and no one would give her anything.

At least she was getting some training in. Jaz spent every morning in the gym, working with whoever had time to help her out. Word had gotten around that she was a Becket and where the folks who gave orders weren't talking, the folks who took them were more than happy to bring her up to speed.

Still, four days later she was eager for answers.

"No one will even tell me if he's conscious," she muttered to Miller over breakfast. He'd found her the first morning and led her to a table full of a mix of techs and trainers who shared stories and gossip from their various departments over their meals.

He sighed and shook his head as he ripped his toast into strips, then looked around a little and leaned in closer to her. "Word is, he's awake, but he hasn't said much. I don't know how much stock to put in that."

"When did he wake up?" Jaz demanded. "No one told me! I'm still here when I could be helping him!"

"I don't know," Miller said softly, motioning to her to keep her voice down. "Look, I know a nurse at the med center and she said his room's cordoned off. But I also know that Marshal Pentecost is headed here today. So maybe this is it?"

Jazmine downed the last of her orange juice and stood up. "It had better be."

She had just returned her tray when the mood in the mess hall changed. Everything grew slightly hushed, though not silent, and a pause made its way around the room table by table as people looked to the entrance. Jazmine turned to look for herself and saw Marshal Pentecost standing there, calmly taking in the breakfast crowd. Jazmine hesitated for a fraction of a second and then stalked over to him.

"Marshal," she said, stopping a few feet in front of him and standing at attention. "I want to see my brother."

The people sitting close enough to hear her stopped talking entirely as everyone waited for Pentecost's response. After a moment he nodded and gestured for her to follow him out.

"I would very much like for you to see your brother as well, Ms. Becket," he said as they left the mess hall. "Unfortunately that is not possible just now. Your brother is still recuperating and you? You need to start training."

"I've _been_ training," Jazmine pointed out. "I've been training all day since my scores came in. Everyone says I'll be compatible with Yancy. I want to see him. We're family, Marshall. We've lost our parents, our brother. We need to see each other."

"I'm afraid your brother disagrees," Pentecost muttered, frowning just slightly so she knew he didn't support Yancy in that. "We are working on it, Ms. Becket, I assure you. Right now the best thing to be done is to get you to the Academy. We're putting you on an intensive track while your brother gets back on his feet. I believe in time he will come around and when he does, you need to be ready."

And then he turned and walked away from her. Jazmine stood there, stunned, before rushing after him. That couldn't be it. Yancy couldn't just refuse to see her.

"Why can't I see him anyhow?" she demanded as she followed Marshal Pentecost. "He's in a hospital bed, for fuck's sake. He can't run away from me. What? Does he think I'll be pissed off?"

She almost reached for the Marshal, then fell back a step instead. She wasn't even at the Academy yet. It probably wasn't a good idea to go grabbing the highest ranking officer in the organization.

Pentecost turned quickly to face her and she took another step back at the look on his face.

"I do not presume to know what he is thinking," he told her softly. "And he is not being forthcoming. All I know is that we need two more functional rangers _now_ than we have. So you will go to the Academy. You will train. You will be ready when your brother comes to his senses."

Jaz glared at him but said nothing at first. She took a steadying breath and moved to stand at attention, nodding. "Yes, sir."

 

_Yancy_

The psychiatrist the PPDC sent in to talk to Yancy spent two hours droning on about survivor's guilt and how it was natural and understandable. Yancy had stared at the wall the entire time and repeated to himself that Raleigh would have probably just hauled off and decked the guy. Eventually the psychiatrist gave up, trailing off into an expectant silence that didn't get any less awkward the longer it went on. When he left Yancy rolled his eyes and muttered "finally" to himself so softly it didn't even reach his own ears, let alone whatever monitor they had on him. And he was sure they were monitoring him. He was too valuable a commodity not to keep an eye on, and he was a partnerless Jaeger pilot. He could do the math on that one and it added up to no one leaving him the hell alone for longer than fifteen minutes at a stretch.

Tendo had stuck around for a couple of days, chatting at Yancy about irrelevant pop culture crap and gossip from the LA Shatterdome. He'd run interference for Yancy with the doctors and nurses and a couple of well-wishers who'd been at the medical center for other reasons and gotten wind that Yancy Becket was there. But eventually he'd been called away to deal with something he wouldn't tell Yancy about but which Yancy suspected had to do with the hulking ruin of his jaeger. He'd heard the words "beach" and "salvage" and quickly turned on the radio to something loud and obnoxious so he didn't have to hear about his girl being broken down for scrap.

Marshal Pentecost had shown up the day after Tendo left, informing Yancy that his sister was insistent about seeing him. That her drift compatibility scores were incredibly well matched to his. That there was a Mark IV Jaeger under construction that would be done in time for a new pair of Beckets to take her out when Jazmine finished training.

Yancy had said a few choice things about Raleigh not even being given a memorial and they were already pairing him off again and putting him in a new mechanical tomb. Pentecost hadn't risen to the bait.

"The memorial has been held off until you could attend," he informed Yancy before leaving. And what could Yancy say to that? He couldn't very well refuse to go to Raleigh's memorial. But everyone would be there. _Everyone_. Jazmine included.

Pentecost came by two more times in the next two days and each time he came he repeated that Jazmine wanted to see Yancy. And each time Yancy replied that he wasn't ready. On the last day he told Pentecost he would do whatever else the man needed. But he couldn't pilot. Not now.

"Send me somewhere. Let me train cadets. I'll be back in shape in no time. But no more drifting. Never again."

Yancy stared down the Marshal and was amazed when Pentecost looked away first.

"We need you in Sydney, then," Pentecost said. "You'll work under Hercules Hansen. I believe you are acquainted?"

"Fought with him and his brother in Manila," Yancy said, nodding. It was almost surreal to go from the tension and arguing to this matter-of-fact reassignment. "Lucky Seven. He's not piloting these days, I know."

"No," Pentecost agreed. The details had been kept quiet but Scott Hansen wasn't piloting either, and he certainly wasn't training any cadets anywhere. No one even mentioned his name if they could help it and no one asked why. "He needs someone with your experience."

But before he could go to Sydney there was Raleigh's memorial to attend.

"Got your dress uniform," Tendo said, walking into Yancy's room without bothering to knock. Yancy was up and about now, drying off after a shower and more than ready to get out of what he'd decided was the most monotonous place he'd ever had the misfortune of spending time in.

Yancy took the uniform and inspected it.

"What? Don't trust me?" Tendo asked. He was already dressed, uniform crisp and neat and of course he'd have made sure Yancy's was as perfect as his own but Yancy had to check anyhow.

Tendo waited while Yancy got dressed and then stared at himself in the mirror for a full fifteen minutes, trying to convince himself to get moving. It finally took Tendo coming over and clapping him on his good shoulder to get him to leave the room.

"You speaking?" Tendo asked once they were in the car and on their way. Yancy looked out the window and nodded.

"Yeah. I didn't want to," he admitted. "But I've got to. For Raleigh. I owe it to him. I owe it to everyone."

He'd worked on the speech all night, managing to practice it until he was almost completely certain he could get through it without tears.

When they got to the memorial site it was packed. Onlookers were crowded into roped off areas below a stage where several PPDC officers sat waiting. Yancy looked around as he took his seat, noting the flashes of cameras belonging to both reporters in the press area and regular people. None of the other rangers present had a camera out. Neither did the assembled Jaeger Academy cadets and the other crewmembers who'd been able to come out for the memorial.

Tendo took a seat just behind Yancy. Stacker Pentecost was talking to some other people in uniform off to the side of the stage. Yancy turned back to ask Tendo if he knew who was going to be in the empty seat to Yancy's left when he felt someone step up onto the stage.

Jazmine. She looked different than his memories of her. His or Raleigh's. Her hair was pulled back into a low tail, well out of her face and not likely to get in the way under a pons. She was dressed in an academy cadet's uniform, obviously quickly tailored to her. She stood there, staring at him, while he stared back. Pentecost was coming up the steps behind her and when he murmured something to her she shook herself just slightly and walked forward, stopping in front of Yancy.

Yancy stood. Out in the audience flashes were going off all over the place as the two remaining Beckets met for the first time in years.

"Jaz," Yancy started. He didn't even know what to follow her name with and stopped, searching for something to say.

"You idiot," she hissed, punching him in the shoulder before pulling him in for a tight hug. "We're family. No matter what else."

If he'd thought for even a moment that he'd be able to not hug her back he'd been sorely mistaken and for an oddly blissful several seconds all he cared about was that his baby sister was right there, safe, hugging him. The press, the audience, Marshal Pentecost, none of them mattered for that one moment. When he finally loosened his grip just a tiny bit it all came back, of course. But in that instant he realized that it just might work. He knew his sister. She knew him. It might well be possible to pull it off.

Jaz was looking up at him then, head just slightly tilted. He reached behind her and tugged on her hair and she let go to smack him lightly. They hugged again and sat down side by side.

"They ask you to speak?" he said softly as the last few spectators filed in and everyone got settled.

Jaz nodded. "Pretty sure it's a PR move," she replied, just as soft.

Yancy felt his whole body tense up at the thought of hearing her speak. Of course she'd have written something decent. She'd do right by Raleigh. But he suddenly wished he was back in the hospital, staring at the ceiling some more.

A man in a suit, one of the bigwig government officials who were constantly complaining about costs, spoke first. He droned on about sacrifice and yeah, there it was, cost. Only this time he meant lives, not money. Still, it grated on Yancy and he had to school his features into somber respect.

Marshal Pentecost spoke next, keeping his speech brief and ending with a statement that Raleigh Becket had embodied the spirit of the Jaeger program: Always ready. Always willing to put others first.

Then it was Yancy's turn and he had to force himself up onto his feet. Once again it was Tendo's hand on his shoulder that finally got him up and moving.

"When my brother suggested we go get tested I almost said no." Yancy looked out at the crowd and the cameras and shook his head a little. "I didn't think we had a chance in hell. But I could never say no to my little brother. He was so sure we could do it. He told me if he had to pick between fighting drunks in a bar or fighting monsters in a jaeger, he'd pick the monsters every time. So we got tested and the rest is history. We did the press circuit. We did interviews. And I know you're all here thinking you knew Raleigh Becket. You knew the Becket Boys. But you don't know him like I knew him. No one could. Drifting almost makes two people into one. I know that every answer he ever gave in every interview was the truth. I know he went out to every fight prepared to give his life to protect every single person on his watch. I know he knew the name of every one of not only our pit crew, but the techs and mechanics and all the crews in the Icebox. I know he knew those names because he cared about all of them. I know he read every piece of mail every kid ever sent us. I know he snuck ration cards out to anyone he could. I know he got angry when we couldn't save people and I know he would train to let off steam. I know he did that so he'd be better next time. Because he always wanted to be better. To be as good as possible. To save humanity. I almost said no to all of that. I almost said no to the best friend I have ever had. I almost said no to saving lives. But I never could say no. Not to Raleigh. Because he was my brother, but also because he was one of the best people I could have ever known."

 

_Jazmine_

She was crying by the end of Yancy's first sentence. It was such a horrible thought to have, that if Yancy had just said no then maybe Raleigh would be there. But she'd watched the news. She'd kept track of her brothers' victories. Jazmine knew just how many people Raleigh and Yancy had saved. Raleigh would have made the choice the same way even if he'd known this would happen. If someone had said to him, flat out, that he would die in that machine, killed by a giant monster in the ocean, so far from home, he'd have said it would be worth it and he'd have signed up even earlier. So Jazmine just sat there as her brother spoke, letting the tears fall.

When Yancy finished and came back to his seat she held out her hand and gripped tightly when he took it. He squeezed her hand back and let go so she could get up.

"My name is Jazmine Becket," she said when she got to the podium. "Raleigh was my older brother and the last time I saw him we fought. Our mother had just died and he was singing at her grave. I was scared. I was sixteen and my mother was gone and the world was ending and my brothers were already talking about joining up. So I yelled at him. And he smiled at me and told me it was okay. We wrote a couple of letters, but being a pilot is a busy life, I know. We lost touch. They moved. I moved. I never said I was sorry. And I was. But so long as I didn't write it, there was a chance I could tell him in person. Now I never will. I'm sorry, Raleigh. I was scared. I'm still scared. But I'm doing what you did. I'm joining up. I'm fighting. For you. For everyone you'll never be able to save now."

Jazmine paused and took a deep breath. She hadn't sung in a while. Not in front of people. She remembered helping her mother around the house, their decrepit record player going while Jazmine and her mother sang along. She'd never realized Raleigh had been listening until he'd sung over their mother's grave. But she'd been practicing for the past two days, just one verse:

 _Je ne sais pas pourquoi la route_  
Qui me pousse vers la cité  
A l'odeur fade des déroutes  
De peuplier en peuplier  
Je ne sais pas pourquoi le voile  
Du brouillard glacé qui m'escorte  
Me fait penser aux cathédrales  
Où l'on prie pour les amours mortes  
Je ne sais rien de tout cela  
Mais je sais que je t'aime encore

Yancy was singing along by the end, standing to put his arm around her shoulders. As she finished Jazmine realized a handful of others in the crowd had joined in. Not many, but she saw them singing. And it was okay. It was perfect.

Somehow she got back to her seat. Someone had come up to her and Yancy and gently led them back. She saw Yancy grip the man's arm for a moment, saw a string of rosary beads wrapped around the other man's hand. It was like a slide show. She leaned against Yancy and he leaned against her and they watched as a flag was folded for Raleigh and Yancy took it and set it so it was on both of their knees. And then it was over.

Jazmine was pretty sure, later on, that it was the man with the rosary who got them off the stage and down to a waiting car and back to a hotel room where they could sit. She heard Yancy call him Tendo and fixed that name in her mind. Someone else, a young woman with blue streaks in her hair, pressed a drink into Jazmine's hand and promptly disappeared.

"That song," someone said from nearby. "Jacques Brel, right?"

Jazmine looked over and it took her a moment to place the man's face. He'd been younger the last time she'd seen him on television. Hercules Hansen didn't pilot a jaeger anymore, but word at the Academy was that his son was shaping up to be a chip off the old block and eager to get a jaeger of his own.

"Right," Jazmine said, nodding before taking a sip of her drink. It wasn't too strong, which was good because she knew she was far too likely to overdo it if given the chance. "He was Mom's favorite. Raleigh sang the first verse when she died."

Herc nodded. "Sounded good. Real sorry about your brother. He was a good ranger. A good man." He offered her his hand and she shook it before he left, probably to find Yancy or the Marshal.

There were more people in the room now, standing and talking quietly with each other in little groups of three or four. Jazmine swirled her drink around a little, watching the ice bob against the glass. The whole thing felt like a massive waste of time now. Not the ceremony itself, but this standing and talking and drinking. Maybe some of the other people there needed it. Maybe they hadn't been able to take the time to process it all yet. But right then, all Jazmine could think about was getting back to training. It didn't do anyone out in the world a lick of good to have her sitting there, brooding.

"Hey." Jazmine looked up to see Yancy standing over her. "Want to ditch this snoozefest? Tendo's got another room with a shorter guest list."

"Fuck, yes," Jazmine muttered, leaving her drink on a little table by her chair. "Let's go."

People built down now, not up so much, but the hotel they were in was an older building that had never been in the middle of a Kaiju attack and the room Yancy led Jazmine to was on the 10th floor. Inside were a handful of people who all seemed to know Yancy and welcomed him with hearty handshakes and half hugs. They were welcoming to Jazmine too, introducing themselves and complimenting her on her speech.

Yancy snagged a couple of beers for them and sat Jazmine down in a corner of the room. Tendo was regaling the rest of the group with a story about Raleigh's sweater collection and Jazmine listened to it for a little bit before looking at her brother.

Yancy was watching her and she'd known that. Somehow she'd known he was looking at her the whole time.

"We're going to try it, aren't we," she said, turning toward him just as he turned to her.

He nodded. "We should," he admitted, sighing.

Jazmine frowned and looked down at her beer. She hadn't taken a single slug of it yet. It was probably better stuff than she'd been able to get her hands on back at home. Every so often the crew at the garage would pool their rations and see what they could find, but it was almost always swill. This, at least, smelled like the real deal. Still, she couldn't bring it to her lips yet.

"What is it you don't want me to see?" she asked. "I mean, I've got private stuff too, but you're my brother. I trust you."

"It's not that," he told her. "It's just… It's hard, Jaz. Having someone else in your head, you know them better than you know yourself. Losing Rals, right out of my head, I don't know if I could handle it."

She'd thought of the possibility, but hearing him say it in that almost broken voice made it suddenly real to Jazmine. She set her beer down on the table in front of the couch they were on and slid over to hug Yancy tightly. He leaned against her and she held him and they sat like that for longer than she'd planned but at least Yancy was right there, with her, and he wasn't moving away.

When they both finally sat up a little Jazmine looked at Yancy and shook her head. "You know, if it's really that bad, we don't have to. They've got another possibility for me and I know they've got to have something for you too."

Yancy frowned. "No. We're going to try this. We're the best possibility for each other. We grew up together. We've got shared memories already. We know each other. I can tell already, Jaz, we're drift compatible. And besides, you've got a boatload of training and we'd need a new jaeger. So we've got time. Right?"

"Right," Jaz agreed. "We should tell Marshal Pentecost."

"Tell me what?" a familiar voice asked from nearby. Jazmine had no idea when he'd come in, but there he was, looking official enough that the rest of the group had seemingly come to attention without realizing it.

Jazmine and Yancy both got to their feet.

"We're going to try it, sir," Yancy said. Jazmine nodded in agreement and Pentecost nodded back.

"Good to hear," he told them. "Tomorrow. Mr. Choi will arrange it."

He nodded again to both of them, then glanced around the room before leaving. As soon as the door closed behind him the entire room slumped a little.

"You guys really trying it?" Tendo asked, coming over to them.

"Yeah," Yancy said, ducking his head a little while Tendo shoved him.

"Good! 0900 tomorrow, and don't be late, Beckets."

Jazmine smiled as she saw Yancy relax a little while some of the others in the room started to come over and really talk to them. Tendo's new girlfriend had shown up, as had a couple of the others from their pit crew and a pair of pilots whose jaeger was still under construction. It was midnight before Jazmine got back to her own room and set her alarm for early the next morning.

 

_Yancy_

Since they didn't have an actual jaeger to practice in they were using one of the simulator rigs for the test. Jazmine had been there before him, chatting with Tendo while he got her hooked up to the system. Everything had to be adjusted for them but that only took a few minutes and at 0910 with Marshal Pentecost in the control room and Tendo at the ready, Yancy initiated his first drift with his sister.

The memories that flooded in were a mix. He knew that right away. Some were his, some were Jazmine's - he knew because he'd never seen them from quite that perspective before - and some were Raleigh's, left from years of drifting with him.

Yancy let them all wash over him, seeing himself and Raleigh through Jazmine's eyes for the first time, feeling a dull ache of being left behind, left out, while her brothers teamed up and forged ahead without her. He heard snippets of news reports, saw a cadre of reporters rush her door, smelled motor oil and metal from the garage she worked in. He'd never been very mechanically minded, himself, but an internal combustion engine through Jazmine's eyes was a beautifully perfect puzzle to be taken apart. How had he not known that about her?

When his own memories started to filter through he could feel Jazmine soaking them in, almost desperate to know him better, and he struggled to calm her down.

 _Jaz, slow down,_ he insisted through the drift. _Let it happen on its own. We've got time._

She'd stopped on a particular memory of his and he could tell she was trying to pace herself, rein in her need to make up for lost time. But when he looked around a little the memory she'd stopped on was a fight he'd had with Raleigh over a girl. And then they weren't in his memory of it anymore, they were in Raleigh's, shared years ago and now trapped somewhere in Yancy's own mind.

It was more than disorienting and he could see it through Jazmine's eyes, feel it through her, seeing himself through his memory of Raleigh's memory of him and they were yelling at each other and then it wasn't the fight over the girl it was the fight with Knifehead. Yancy could feel Raleigh's anger and panic and his own panic and they had both been so desperate to take the beast down and Jazmine had never been in that situation. News footage didn't prepare you for knowing there was a Kaiju intent on bashing your head in and tearing you apart and Jazmine was screaming for him except she was screaming Raleigh's name and he was stuck in Raleigh's view, looking back at himself and clinging to the controls somehow until he was ripped away from the pod and everything went dark.

Yancy wasn't sure how long it had been when he finally came to, but he was out of the simulator and in an infirmary. There was a curtain around his bed and he could hear people talking nearby.

"I just didn't know," Jazmine was saying softly. "I didn't know it would be like that."

"It's not usually that bad," Tendo responded. "You said you saw stuff from both of them?"

Jazmine didn't respond but he heard Tendo sigh. Of course she'd seen things from both of them. The drift didn't differentiate between what was Yancy's and what was Raleigh's now that it was all in Yancy's head.

"It could get better," Tendo suggested. "With time, practice. It's never perfect the first time."

"No, she's right," Yancy said, sitting up and shifting the curtain aside. Jazmine was seated on a cot neatby, Tendo next to her. They both looked over at Yancy.

"Yancy, I'm sorry," Jazmine said. "I wanted this to work so much."

"So did I," he told her. And he had. Maybe not at first, but as soon as he'd seen her, he'd wanted it to work. He'd wanted his sister at his side in a conn-pod.

"Mr. Becket." Stacker Pentecost didn't enter the infirmary. He stood in the doorway and waited for Yancy to stand at attention. Tendo and Jazmine stood just a beat after.

"Marshal, sir," Yancy said.

"A word, alone."

Tendo tugged at Jazmine's shoulder but she stepped forward.

"It was my fault," she insisted to Pentecost. "I just need more discipline. More practice. I can do this."

"Yes, you can," he agreed. "But not with your brother. We will speak later. Right now I need to speak to your brother. Mr. Choi? Please take Ms. Becket to be cleared from medical."

Somehow Tendo got Jazmine out of the room through a side door, probably to have her vitals taken before they sent her back to the Academy. Yancy watched them go, then turned back to Marshal Pentecost.

"Mr. Becket. I will not deny that I was counting on you and your sister being drift compatible. You know we need every pilot we can get our hands on. We need every jaeger. And in my zeal I made a mistake. I put you and your sister in the drift without considering your loss. You cannot drift together. Your brother will always come to the fore. I should have known that."

Pentecost didn't admit mistakes. Not in Yancy's memory. He stared at the Marshal for a moment, then nodded.

"Yes, sir. But Jazmine, she's got potential. You've got to find someone for her."

"I have someone in mind," Pentecost said. "Rest assured, neither of you will find yourself set aside."

"So, what do I do now, sir?"

"Same thing you were going to do before I sat you next to your sister. You go to Sydney and help Herc Hansen. I will take care of everything else."

Raleigh would have questioned him. Raleigh would have pushed the issue. Yancy just nodded. "Yes, sir."

He did get a little more time with Jazmine while they waited for a few others who were heading back to the Academy. It was only a couple of hours and he stumbled over what to say at first, until Jaz nudged his shoulder with hers and looked sidelong at him.

"Tell me something stupid about Raleigh," she asked, running her fingers over the raised letters on her dog tags. "I saw, in the drift, I saw him with a camera?"

"Yeah, always taking photos. Some kid gave it to him, right after we bagged our first Kaiju. So he took a picture with it and got the kid's address, sent it to him when we got it developed. I kept telling him it'd be easier to use digital, but he loved that old thing. I think it's in with my stuff now."

Jazmine nodded, leaning against him. "I saw him knitting too," she said and Yancy laughed.

"Did you see the fucking mess he made?" he asked. "There was this guy on our pit crew early on, he made stuff you'd never believe. We were holed up with repairs for two weeks once and Rals got the guy to give him lessons, but he was all thumbs. I think he managed, like, a pot holder. Maybe. Carried around this big tangle of yarn for a month, like it'd magically turn into a sweater."

Jazmine laughed into Yancy's shoulder. "I can just see him trying to get the hang of it," she gasped. "And it'd just get worse and worse and he'd insist he could fix it. It's supposed to be like that!"

"Exactly!" Yancy agreed. "We all gave him sweaters for Christmas that year and I think he probably wanted to throttle the lot of us."

"I'll write from the Academy," Jazmine told him. "And you'd better damn well keep in touch from Australia. Don't you think an international date line means you don't have to write."

"Weekly, at least," Yancy promised. "And who knows, maybe when you're all trained up and assigned to a jaeger they'll station you there."

"Oh yeah, so you can order me around?"

"Yeah, exactly."

A knock on the door warned that Jazmine's ride was ready and she stood, saluting Yancy. "See you soon, Yance."

He stood and hugged her tightly. "See you soon, Jaz."

 

_Jazmine_

Everyone on the outside said they were winning the war, that Knifehead had been a fluke, Raleigh Becket an unfortunate loss. The speed at which Jazmine was pushed through Jaeger Academy, however, said otherwise. As did the rumors she heard from the K-Sci department. All the cadets heard them. Bigger Kaiju, nastier, prepared for specific Jaegers. They'd started rotating Jaegers through different shatterdomes, supposedly to make sure pilots didn't get complacent. Jazmine could read between the lines, though, and suspected they were trying to make sure no Kaiju could target a Jaeger and take it out in one go.

Jazmine was three months into her intensified training when she was told to report to the kwoon to try out a handful of prospective drift partners. Something had held them up and she had been going through her classes alone. Geology, meteorology, tactics, they were all new to her and she'd had to push hard to keep up. Engineering and its related topics, those she was loving every minute of. Her instructors had started giving her extra work, little projects she was pretty sure added up to something, but she hadn't been able to put it all together yet.

Eager to get started, Jaz showed up half an hour early and did her warm-ups. She still wasn't anywhere near perfect, but she'd picked up enough of the forms she needed and she drilled herself whenever she had a spare moment. She was just finishing up her regular routine when she realized someone was watching her.

"Hey," she said, stopping and grabbing a towel. She wiped off her face and got a better look at the young woman standing in the doorway. She was young, Japanese, blue streaks in her hair. The hair was what caught Jazmine's attention. She'd seen it before. Raleigh's memorial.

"Ms. Becket," the young woman said, nodding to her. "My name is Mako Mori. I am one of the candidates."

"You gave me a drink after the memorial," Jaz said, walking over. "Jazmine Becket. Nice to meet you."

"Ms. Mori. Ms. Becket," Marshal Pentecost said as he strode up behind Mako. "The others will be here shortly."

They both snapped to attention and nodded, Mako a hair faster than Jazmine.

A few other people arrived within moments of each other and the warm-ups continued. Jazmine watched the others carefully, looking for anything familiar or notable in their style of movement.

"I think everyone here could mop the floor with me," she confided in Mako. The other woman had stayed nearby for her own warm-up and gave Jazmine a quiet smile in return.

"That is not the point," she reminded Jazmine. "It is about compatibility, not superiority."

"Yeah, still," Jaz said. She stretched a little and stepped back as one of the instructors called things to order.

"Right, so, I'm sure you're all aware of what's on today's agenda. Most of you were transferred in for this. We're looking for a drift compatible pair and you've all got good solid readings but no one to drift with. So let's see how you do. Ms. Becket? Front and center."

The first two she tried with were hopeless. Not only were they stronger and faster than she was, but they just plain felt wrong. Like no matter how well they thought they knew what she was going to do, no matter how well she thought she was anticipating, they were on each other's toes and in each other's faces. Never at the right time or in the right place.

The third was a possibility. Jazmine felt the tiniest hint of something as they traded blows, eventually settling into a rhythm that felt almost comfortable.

Mako was her fourth try and as soon as the other woman started moving Jazmine's heart sank. Mako was better trained. More skilled. Fast, determined, graceful. Jazmine threw herself into the trial, assuming it was pointless, and found herself matching every move Mako made. Whether Mako was holding back to meet Jazmine's limited training or Jazmine was rising to the occasion (she suspected the former), it didn't matter. They were almost perfectly in sync with each other. Their instructor called a halt just as they were matching one more hit and Jazmine realized that the room had gone silent while they worked.

"And I believe we have a match," Marshal Pentecost said drily. "Ms. Mori, Ms. Becket, please see me after lunch."

The rest of the cadets and rangers clapped a little and came forward to congratulate Jazmine and Mako, but Jazmine could barely register them. All she could do was stare at Mako and dazedly smile and nod as the others shook her hand or clapped her on the shoulder before leaving.

"That was amazing," she said to Mako when they were again alone in the kwoon.

Mako grinned back at her. "We are going to be pilots."

 

_Yancy_

Yancy had only been to the Sydney shatterdome once before. Well, twice, but the first time had been more of a fly-by than a stay. They'd brought him and Raleigh in after a multi-jaeger drop in Manila, three hours to do a quick check on their systems before they lifted them out again and sent them back to Alaska. The second time had been more of a stay. He and Raleigh had been there to see the first Mark IV Jaeger power up for the first time. They'd been there for two days before going back to Alaska then. Long enough for jet lag to really kick Yancy's ass. Raleigh, of course, had been fine. He'd always been able to sleep at the drop of a hat, anywhere, and wake up like new.

Now Yancy had his own quarters and a new pin for his collar and people called him 'sir' and it was all very strange. Stranger still was having a very large and muscular shadow named Chuck Hansen. He'd met the kid a few times at events, but he knew Chuck's father, Herc, a hell of a lot better. They were both pilots, after all. The last time Yancy had seen Chuck, he'd been at Jaeger Academy, boasting he'd beat every other high score ever set by any other cadet.

To Chuck's credit, he'd come damn close. Also to his credit, he was still awake by the end of the briefing Yancy had been running for the last two hours. Yancy drained the last dregs of coffee from his mug and rubbed at his eyes as Chuck walked over while everyone else filed out of the room. Technically Chuck should have been on duty and Herc should have been running the briefing, but somehow a nasty flu strain had gotten into the shatterdome and all those afflicted had been sequestered so they wouldn't infect the rest of the dome. Just went to show, you could take every precaution and it was never going to be perfect. It was enough to make Yancy wish the Kaiju were a little more like those aliens in War of the Worlds and they could just sneeze the fuckers to death.

"Long night, old man? You're not coming down with something, are you?

Yancy shook his head and got his papers together. There were so many papers involved in the job.

"I'm not sick and they're all long these days, Chuck."

"Yeah, well, you're the one who volunteered to babysit," Chuck said as they headed out into the corridor. "Don't know why you did that. You could have found another pilot, anyone'd be thrilled to fight with one of the only two rangers to run solo."

Yancy sighed. They'd kept his failure with Jazmine quiet, telling people that he needed recovery time and Jazmine needed training. Most people didn't question it, either out of respect or indifference. The important part seemed to be that Yancy was around. He'd gotten a number of letters from people who'd lost family to Kaiju attacks, and a lot more from people he and Raleigh had saved. He'd kept them all, because Raleigh would have. And he'd been slowly writing replies. Because Raleigh would have done that too.

"It's been eight months," Chuck was saying as they headed towards the crew quarters. "There's a new class graduating soon. Your sister included."

"Yeah, I know. But she's got a partner now. There are plans for them in motion already."

Chuck stopped, reaching out to stop Yancy as well.

"Wait a minute! You're telling me you're not gonna pilot with Jazmine? Who the hell's she with? What plans?"

Yancy gave Chuck a _look_. "Chuck, you know there are things I can't talk about. We're pals and all, but we're not all pilots anymore."

Chuck scowled. "You're still a pilot, Yancy. You can't stop. Even Marshal Pentecost, he's still a pilot. That's how it works."

It wasn't a new sentiment. Jaeger pilots were a fairly exclusive club and they took care of their own. Not always in person, given how spread out everyone was, but a pilot could always count on another pilot to at least back them up. He'd heard from a handful of the pilots he'd worked with, men and women who'd been on duty during the memorial, holding down the shatterdomes. They'd all said the same thing Chuck was saying: Pilots were pilots for life.

Yancy sighed and clapped Chuck on the shoulder. "I appreciate it, Chuck, really. But I'm still not going to tell you classified shit."

"Worth a try," Chuck said, smirking at him.

Yancy had to laugh at that. He was about to ask Chuck if he was up for going and raiding the mess when a klaxon sounded through the corridors.

"Shit," Yancy muttered as he and Chuck both turned and raced for the dome's control room. The automated alert was giving the brief details of the Kaiju spotted and the direction it was headed in but neither Yancy nor Chuck stopped to listen until they were in the thick of things and could look at the full report on the monitors.

Category III, but a big one. Headed south from the breach. Already evaded the Hong Kong team that had gone out to protect the coast there. They had a couple of grainy photos that weren't much better even with 3D enhancement.

"Looks like it's keeping to the water," Yancy announced as the crew in the control room quieted down. "Last sightings of it have it headed our way. We're calling in Crimson Typhoon from Hong Kong. I'm sure the Weis are pissed off and eager for a second try. Until then Vulcan Specter is all we've got."

"Hey," Chuck said sharply, stepping in front of Yancy as people hurried to get things in motion.

Yancy frowned. "Chuck, your father's still sick. He can't pilot with a fever and you can't take Striker out solo."

"Yancy," Chuck insisted, but Yancy cut him off.

"No! If you even begin to try and claim you could handle it I will kick your ass so hard you'll wish you were quarantined with Herc. Solo piloting is an act of desperation. Not a battle plan."

"That's not what I'm trying to say, asshole!" Chuck yelled. "Look at those photos! That thing's fuckin' huge! It'll rip Specter apart before the Weis get past Manila. We can't just sit here and wait for it!"

"And what do you propose?" Yancy bit out. He'd known they were vulnerable. He'd asked for a transfer from one of the other domes. But things were thin everywhere these days and bureaucracy slowed supply requisitions and transfer requests to the pace of an elderly snail. He'd just had to hope that Herc would recover before they needed him. A hope in vain, it seemed.

"You," Chuck said, reaching out and poking Yancy square in the chest. "You pilot Striker with me."

A couple of the crew nearby froze when Chuck spoke. Yancy could hear a quiet intake of breath from behind himself. He clenched his teeth a little without meaning to and forced his face to relax. They were still in the middle of the control room, surrounded by people he had to command. He took Chuck by the arm and dragged him to a corner out of earshot from everyone else.

"It's not that simple," he hissed. "We don't even know if we're compatible, I'm so out of shape I'm practically a Hutt and I don't even know if I can drift without dragging someone down the rabbit hole with me."

"I've been watching you in drills," Chuck said, not bothering to keep his voice down. "You're not out of shape. And for your information I happen to know we are compatible. I checked. Ages ago. Least you can do is give it a go. If you don't and you know you could've, it'll eat at you and you know it!"

Yancy scowled and held Chuck's gaze for a moment, then swore under his breath and let go of Chuck's arm. "You know it's a pain in the ass when you're smart," he told Chuck. "Listen up!" he called to the room. "Change of plans. Mr. Hansen has pointed out we need more metal out there than we've got right now. We'll be taking out Striker together, assuming I'm not too much for him to handle in the drift."

Chuck shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "Dream big, old man," he muttered to Yancy.

"With luck we won't be needed," Yancy continued. "But I don't believe in luck. So let's go with hard work instead."

That got a small cheer from the crew before everyone got down to the hard work Yancy had mentioned. He turned to Chuck and looked at him for a moment before sighing.

"Come on. Let's go get suited up and see if we can actually pull this off."

They cleared it with Herc first. Or rather, they sent word to Herc, who promptly called up to the control room that they were idiots and of course they'd be compatible. Hadn't they been sparring for the past eight months? And he'd monitor things from the infirmary now that they'd finally allowed him to have screens and displays set up near his bed.

After that it was mostly a matter of getting into the drivesuits. Yancy got changed, tamping down a wave of nausea at the feel of the suit being pieced together around him. He hadn't worn one for the drift test with Jazmine. He hadn't worn one since Knifehead. Since Raleigh.

"See, I knew Dad's suit would fit you," Chuck said, grinning as Yancy stepped into Striker's conn-pod.

Yancy rolled his eyes and gestured for Chuck to take the first position. "You're in the lead," he told him. "My arm's not great on that side."

"Sure," Chuck said.

It was almost funny how easily the routine came back to Yancy. He got his feet positioned, made sure he was relaxed and ready, then nodded to Chuck. "Let's go for it."

"Ready," Chuck said for the benefit of the control room crew.

Yancy closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let Chuck's mind connect to his own.

The memories weren't as overwhelming as he'd feared. He saw things out of order, a glimpse of Chuck's training at the Academy followed by his mother tucking him into bed followed by Yancy's own face through Chuck's eyes, Raleigh next to him in an interview they'd done not long after their first kill. He saw and felt fight after fight with Herc at Chuck's side, finally knowing a side of the elder Hansen that he'd never seen first hand. And then he heard Chuck gasp a little as the fighting pulled up Yancy's last memories of Raleigh and Yancy braced himself to push through it, fight the undertow that had claimed him with Jazmine. But it never came. Chuck pulled him through to his own view of the fight's aftermath, watched on a monitor in the Sydney shatterdome. He could hear other people's reactions, feel Chuck's reaction, his horror at the ruined Jaeger crashed on the beach minus an arm and a pilot, Yancy sprawled on the sand while snow fell around him.

Yancy had never once doubted that others had mourned Raleigh. That people had been profoundly affected by their loss and near-failure. It was entirely different to _feel_ it in someone else's mind. Comforting, in a bizarre way.

As the memories faded into the background of their minds, Yancy realized they had achieved a full link, drifting almost as well as he'd drifted with Raleigh. He looked over at Chuck, who nodded somberly to him.

"Told you we could do it," he said.

Yancy managed a smile. "Yeah. You did. Now let's go kick that Kaiju back to the breach."

 

_Jazmine_

"I swear, Mako, if they tell us one more time we've got to wait, I'm going to start screaming."

"You know that would do no good," Mako pointed out from her desk. She shuffled through a stack of blueprints and carefully pulled out the one she was looking for. "And besides, she is not ready yet."

"Only because we keep coming up with more improvements when they tell us we've got to wait more. We're filling the time. She's better than she ever was. I mean, not to disrespect my brothers. Not their fault she's a Mark III, but she's faster, more agile, more powerful."

Mako nodded, still focused on the plans in front of her. "True," she agreed. "She is much different now."

"Did I tell you Yancy wrote? He said we should rename her."

That got Mako's attention and her head snapped up so she could see Jazmine. Jaz grinned at her.

"What? You thought he'd get possessive? Mako, he's been piloting Striker Eureka with Chuck Hansen for like, three years now. I think he said his goodbyes already. It's probably easier for him to see her looking so different. Easier still if she's got a new name. Anyhow, he told me it would be bad luck to take her out again with the same name."

Mako nodded and looked back down at her work. She made a final note and started to clean things up, rolling the blueprints tightly and slipping them into tubes and tucking the papers into folders and binders.

"I thought perhaps it would be disrespectful to change her name. There is so much history attached to her." Mako frowned slightly and sat back in her chair, regarding Jazmine with a pensive look Jaz had gotten used to very quickly after they'd been given the Jaeger restoration project. "If your brother has said we should, and Marshal Pentecost has no objections, then perhaps it is a good idea."

Jaz grinned at her co-pilot and stood up from the desk. "Come on. I've got an idea for a name. I think you'll like it. I've got a design for the logo in my room."

"Already?" Mako asked, standing and following Jazmine out of the room and across the hall to Jazmine's door. "When did your brother write, Jazmine?"

Jaz opened her door and looked back at Mako. "I got the letter Monday. Come on, it's not like I've been sitting on this for weeks or something. I couldn't sleep much the other night so…"

The design she'd been sketching out was on her desk on top of the leg schematics she'd been looking at. She'd taken an old poster down to add the logo to it as a trial. Of course the chest plate was a little different now, and the head had been redesigned to withstand more damage. They'd started there, since it had needed a new head anyhow. But it still looked close enough to be recognizable. They'd kept the colors the same, they'd kept the plasma cannons and the engine in the chest. But it was sleeker now, streamlined to suit Jazmine and Mako's fighting style. The Becket Boys had been brawlers and Jazmine wasn't too far off from them when she'd started, but training with Mako had given her more finesse.

"You know you can always come find me when you cannot sleep," Mako sighed, resting one hand on Jazmine's arm. "You should."

"I hate bothering you," Jaz said, slinging her arm around Mako's shoulders and giving her a quick hug. "But yeah, I should have. Just call me an idiot and take a look at the design already!"

Mako smiled and picked up the poster.

"Lady Danger," she read out, tracing the logo with one finger. It was similar to the old one, but more graceful. "I thought you would argue for something more different," she admitted.

Jaz shook her head. "Hey, like you said, we should respect the original. But she's ours now. And let's face it, we're dangerous ladies. If they ever let us take her out and fight a damn Kaiju in her."

"We will get our chance," Mako assured her. "For now, we should work on finishing the restoration before we move to Hong Kong."

Jazmine groaned and flopped down onto her bunk, then sat up and dug around in her blankets, finding a screwdriver hidden in a fold. She tossed it at her tool box and groaned again.

"You sound like a child," Mako said, sitting at Jazmine's desk to look at the leg schematics. "You should eat."

"Oh my god, my co-pilot is my mom," Jazmine teased. "Yeah, come on, let's go get lunch."

The mess hall in the Icebox had always been a little crowded when Jazmine and Mako had been transferred there to work on the restoration project. It wasn't as crowded now. With less funding going into the Jaeger program and more into the Walls they just didn't need the same amount of people. Jazmine knew Pentecost had tried his hardest to keep on as many as possible and find good jobs for those they had to let go. You learned things like that when your co-pilot was the Marshal's adopted daughter. Still. It was depressing to see empty seats and no one waiting to fill them.

There was a good stew on the menu for the day and Tendo came to join them, along with a handful of other crewmembers who'd been working on the restoration.

"So, denied again, huh?" Tendo asked as they all settled at the table. "If it makes you feel any better, she's lookin' real good."

Jaz smiled at him. He'd been a good friend of her brothers and supplied her with endless stories of Raleigh that didn't quite make up for the years she'd missed, but did help fill the gap a bit.

"Yeah," she told him. "It does make me feel better. And since we've got the time, we've got a special project in mind."

"We do?" Mako asked.

"Sword?" Jazmine said.

"I would have done that anyhow," Mako informed her. "But we must finish the legs first."

"A sword?" Tendo said as the table quieted. "I heard the word 'sword' just now, didn't I?"

"Not a sword," Jazmine told him, grinning. "Two. One in each arm. Segmented. Mako designed them. They're fucking genius."

Now everyone seated with them was focused on Mako, who had ducked her head and was steadily stirring her stew around before lifting the spoon to her mouth. When she said nothing about the swords Jazmine shook her head and jostled Mako a little. Mako nudged her back and Jazmine caught her smiling behind her hair.

It didn't take long for most of their friends to head off to their own jobs. There was still plenty to do in the Icebox and everyone had their own projects to work on. Tendo gave them a little wave before he took the last apple and headed off.

"So," Jaz said, turning to Mako. "Let's say, right now, that we've planned everything we're going to plan for our lovely Lady. At least until after we get transferred. Let's get her finished, get those legs done, the swords installed, the systems set up for the new weapons and maneuvering jets, and let's see if we can get ourselves deployed. I didn't get into this racket to sit around."

It wasn't all bad, hanging around the Icebox, getting to know people, working on what had to be one of the most amazing machines Jaz had ever laid eyes on, but she'd agreed to join the PPDC to help fight monsters. Pentecost himself had asked her to join up to do just that. If he'd said he wanted her to restore her brothers' Jaeger she'd probably have said yes to that anyhow, but that wasn't what he'd said. Not at all.

"Neither did I," Mako reminded her, and Jaz had to nod in agreement. Mako had every reason to want to get into that pod and take a Kaiju down hard.

"Good." Jazmine held out a hand and Mako took it, shaking firmly.

 

_Yancy_

When the UN and assorted politicians from countries nowhere near the breach had decided to cease funding to the PPDC in favor the ridiculous wall plans, Chuck had spent a full two days ranting about it whenever he was conscious. Yancy had let him vent without protest. He was only saying out loud what everyone involved in the Jaeger program thought. The walls were placebos, meant to placate the masses who couldn't afford to move inland and (the politicians apparently hoped) knew little enough about the Kaiju situation to think that a wall could stop them.

They only had a skeleton crew left in Sydney when the British councilmember who'd spearheaded the coastal wall proposal was in the news, his ties to seven different real estate firms in the US exposed by a journalist whose home had been demolished for the wall projects. Still, the walls were underway, almost complete in some places and fully finished in others, looming over cities and barren exclusion zones alike.

Yancy had spent the morning working to deal with some of the last business of transferring their remaining crew and equipment to Hong Kong. The dome itself was being shuttered but not sold or reused for anything other than storage. Pentecost had been adamant that the domes not be reused as housing. They were just too exposed, as they had to be to let their Jaegers out to fight.

"Hey," he called to Chuck, pausing in the doorway of the kwoon. Chuck's dog, Max, was asleep on top of Chuck's coat in a corner, snoring loudly. "Too angry for a spar?"

Chuck shook his head and stopped so Yancy could take his boots and jacket off and stretch a little.

"We've just been working our asses off, keeping the damn Kaiju from taking over the place. And they kept saying no, we don't fuckin' need you, we'll build a great big fuckin' wall, and I always knew those windbags were full of Kaiju shit but to sell people out like that…"

Yancy nodded, moving into position facing Chuck. "I know. But hey, we knew something was rotten there."

Chuck swung at Yancy, who blocked and turned, deflecting the blow. He tried to land one of his own and was quickly maneuvered away by Chuck.

"All the way through," Chuck muttered as he matched Yancy's moves. They'd gotten to the point of anticipating each other without trying. A nice holdover from the drift. Still, it never hurt to get in some practice. Especially not with the Kaiju coming through more and more frequently. Yancy had seen a report from one of the scientists in Hong Kong, analyzing the patterns and timing of the attacks. He hadn't had more than a moment to glance at it, but it seemed to be suggesting that it was only a matter of time before more than one came through at once. Yancy ducked and punched, making a mental note to find that report again soon.

By the time they were finished sparring Yancy could see some of the tension had left Chuck's shoulders and he didn't have that tight look to his jaw that he got when he was frustrated. They collected their things and left the kwoon to a handful of trainees who were still holding out hope that the program would either be revived or that they'd be needed as replacements. Yancy and Chuck knew that was unlikely but they didn't quash the hopes of the kids. They seemed to need it. They all did.

"Got word from Jazmine and Mako," Yancy said was they headed down to the Jaeger bay. "They're done with the restoration. Got it finished once they were moved and settled in at the Hong Kong dome."

"You still fine with that?" Chuck asked, glancing at Yancy.

Yancy nodded. "I am okay with that, yes. She deserved better than Oblivion Bay and I sure as hell couldn't get back in her. Better for her to have a second life with Jaz and Mako."

"And besides, you've got the best damn Jaeger on the planet now," Chuck reminded him, grinning. "They can shut down the dome here but we've still got Striker."

"Damn right," Yancy agreed. "And a berth waiting for us in Hong Kong."

They were scheduled to leave in a week and Yancy had been neglecting training and practice to get everything done in time. Herc was already in Hong Kong, getting their crew settled and assisting Marshal Pentecost with preparations for what they'd been calling Operation Pitfall. Yancy still only had the basics officially, but he'd worked out enough of the details from various reports and requisitions, the lists of supplies Pentecost had asked him to make sure made it to Hong Kong instead of storage elsewhere. He was almost certain they were going for the breach and he had to hope that meant the Marshal had a plan.

Six days later, a day before their departure was set, Chuck and Yancy were both doing some last minute packing when they heard someone running down the corridor outside their quarters. They had a bare minimum staff, thirty on hand to help rig up Striker for the trip. And there was only one reason any of them would be running in the crew quarters halls: Kaiju.

"Category four!" they heard before they saw who was coming. The runner was one of their crew, a man who'd been helping them put their suits on for the past three years. "It's headed our way! Right for us! Made a beeline through New Guinea!"

"Casualties?" Yancy asked as he and Chuck both grabbed their gear and headed for the door.

"Hard to tell," the other man said as he followed them down the hall at a jog. "Most of our systems are shut down! We're going off news reports from our fucking phones."

"Shit." Papua New Guinea had been mostly evacuated years ago, but there were still people there, refusing to leave both because it was still home and because the housing provided to evacuees was substandard at best. Yancy had seen enough of the refugee settlements to know why some folks would choose to stick it out even in such close proximity to the breach.

"Any other Jaegers available?" Chuck asked as they ran down the halls. "I know they're all in Hong Kong, but we could get someone here."

"Like I said, our systems are down! We're trying to get in touch with Hong Kong but some asshole decided to cut things a day early."

Yancy was pretty sure he knew exactly who'd done it. Some of the local politicians had been very vocal about the "waste" of having anyone in the Sydney dome for the past week.

"Yancy!" Their lead tech was waiting for them in the entrance to the suit room. "Just got word, Lady Danger's out and on the Kaiju's tail. They were doing a test run when the fucker came through. Marshal Pentecost radioed in. He says suit up and head out."

"What?" Yancy said, looking at Chuck. "The Marshal doesn't think the wall'll hold it off?"

"No shit," Chuck laughed. "They're damn lucky we're still in town."

Even with their tiny crew they managed to get suited up and deployed into the city before the Kaiju, named Mutavore by Tendo Choi in Hong Kong, hit the wall. Two naval helicopters had volunteered to run spotting duty for them and the crew's phones had all become a makeshift network of news relays and video feeds. Their crew patched one of the spotter feeds into Striker's screens and Yancy and Chuck made their way to meet Mutavore as it ripped through the Sydney Wall as if it was made of cardboard.

 

_Jazmine_

They'd only had Lady Danger out once before. The rest of their experience had all been simulations. Good simulations, calibrated to precisely replicate how piloting Lady Danger would feel, but simulations nonetheless. It was so very different to actually be out in her, moving through the water and over islands as they followed Mutavore's path towards Australia.

Mako was a firm and comforting presence in Jazmine's mind as they headed south. She could feel Mako's determination, her iron grip on her emotions after seeing the destruction Mutavore had left in its wake. When they'd first gotten into the pod after finishing the restoration, Mako had needed some time to get her childhood memories of a Kaiju attacking her home in check. But Jazmine had stuck by her, keeping her own memories fluid and relaxed. Now they were both in control and they had a Kaiju to hunt down.

Luckily for them, Mutavore wasn't the best swimmer. Some Kaiju seemed to be aquatic by nature. Others seemed to be better suited to land and only stayed in the water when they had to. All Kaiju could swim - else they'd never make it up out of the breach - but some did it better than others. Mutavore appeared to be cut out more for terrestrial attacks, which gave Mako and Jaz the chance to catch up.

"The leg modifications worked perfectly," Jaz reported out loud for the sake of the Hong Kong crew's ears. "We made good time. Coming up on Sydney. Looks like Mutavore didn't bother trying to go through further north at all."

"Smarter than they look," Mako muttered.

They saw Mutavore ahead of them, approaching the Sydney Wall, and both Mako and Jazmine pumped their legs harder, trying to move the bulk of their Jaeger faster to get to the Kaiju before it got into the city. And there was no question that it would. It was easily taller than the wall itself and it had a set of viciously hooked claws that had torn through buildings on its way there.

Mutavore made it through the wall just as Mako and Jazmine were getting close to firing range for the plasma cannons. Together, without a word needed, they made the decision to wait to power up. It would mean pausing for a crucial few seconds while the Kaiju disappeared into the city. Once it was in there it would have to slow down a little, if only to cause destruction.

"Do we have communication with Striker or Sydney yet?" Mako asked their own crew.

"Negative," Tendo answered. "I've got two of their crew on separate phones, but it's a mess. We'll have to relay everything."

Jazmine winced as they headed into the city and caught sight of Striker Eureka pursuing Mutavore through the bay. Instantly she knew where they were going to go, how they were going to respond. She knew Yancy. She knew his style like she knew her own. She laughed softly and heard Mako laugh too as she saw what Jazmine now knew: They were all drift compatible. Mako and Chuck through Yancy and Jazmine.

"We'll be fine," Jazmine told Tendo. "Promise."

"Oh yeah?" Tendo asked. "What makes you so sure?"

They were moving through the city now, avoiding buildings and cars when they could. They turned a corner into a little square just in time to catch one of the blade-like pieces jutting off Mutavore's shoulder, holding it in place so Striker could hit it square in the chest.

"Trust me on this one, Tendo," Jaz said through clenched teeth as they let go to get in their own hit on the back of the Kaiju's head. Mutavore turned to rake at Lady Danger and found itself caught again, this time by Striker.

When Mutavore broke free of both Jaegers Jazmine could tell by watching Striker what move her brother and Chuck would make next. It was like being in the kwoon with Mako, anticipating moves and responding naturally. The Kaiju added uncertainty, yes, but the two Jaegers worked in concert, one getting in a hit while the other defended. While Lady Danger's plasma cannon powered up Striker Eureka was pummelling Mutavore into position. Striker moved out of the way as the plasma strike hit, then opened its chest-mounted missiles while Lady Danger kept Mutavore in range.

Striker Eureka landed the final blow that sent Mutavore thudding to the pavement in the middle of the city and the two Jaegers stood there, waiting to make certain it wouldn't be getting back up. When it was clear that Mutavore was well and truly dead they saluted each other and Striker led the way back to the Sydney shatterdome.

"Never seen anything like that," Tendo said through Lady Danger's radio before Mako and Jazmine powered down the Jaeger. "They got a lot of it recorded. Get ready for the news crews, you two. You and Striker's team just made history."

Leaving the drift was always a little hard, like going from perfect hearing to wearing earmuffs all the time. Jazmine made sure Mako knew how thrilled she was with their first real fight, then broke the connection so they could go out and meet Yancy and Chuck.

The boys were already out of Striker and coming down the hall to meet them when Mako and Jazmine finally got out. There was almost no crew, but they knew their Lady well enough to take care of most of it themselves.

"Good work there," Yancy said when he saw Jazmine. "You're a pretty damn fine pilot."

"You're not bad yourself," Jaz said, grinning and launching herself at her brother, drivesuit still on. They clanked together, laughing. Next to them Mako and Chuck were shaking hands, then hugging as well. It was impossible not to feel the exhilaration of their victory through the drift echo pilots often shared.

"Folks are going to want interviews," Chuck said when they'd all parted and started walking together. "They'll want us all to stick around."

"We can't," Jaz said firmly.

"No, you can't," Marshal Pentecost said, greeting them at the doorway to the control room. Jazmine shook her head. You'd think the man could teleport. "You lot have a mission. And after that display, I have to say I'm a good deal more confident that I picked the right crew for the job."

**Author's Note:**

> The song Jazmine sings at Raleigh's memorial service is the second verse of Jacques Brel's _Je ne sais pas_ and translates as follows:  
>  I don't know why the road  
> Which pushes me toward the city  
> Has the dull odor of the ruin  
> Of poplar after poplar.  
> I don't know why the veil  
> Of the icy fog which hangs around me  
> Makes me think of cathedrals  
> Where we pray for our dead loves.  
> I know nothing about all that,  
> But I know I love you still.
> 
> Taken from http://lyricstranslate.com/en/je-ne-sais-pas-i-dont-know.html-5#ixzz33caRu9mb


End file.
